


Medi Corp Dropout

by tanwencooper



Category: Downton Abbey, Grease
Genre: Comedy, Crack, Gen, Grease - Freeform, Humor, Musical, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-12
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:25:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanwencooper/pseuds/tanwencooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his black market dreams lay in tatters, Thomas is paid a visit by his old boss with an... unusual message. Delivered in song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Medi Corp Dropout

Thomas sat amongst the shattered detritus of his hopes and dreams.  White, tasteless dust filled the air, sticking in his wind pipe with every breath in.  How could he have been such an idiot?  Of course it was all rubbish.  Why sell quality goods when you could get away with selling plaster dust and ancient sweets to a fool with too many dreams.  He fumbled in his pockets for his oldest friend and drew out a cigarette with shaking hands.  As he fumbled with his lighter he couldn’t help wondering if there was enough flour in the air to ignite.  He laughed despite himself.  Survive the wall, only to die in an exploding shed.  Then he remembered that it wasn’t flour in the air.  It was worthless plaster.

The door creaked open.  He looked up expecting to see O’Brien come to comfort him in his misery.  Instead, his cigarette nearly fell out his gaping mouth as Carson appeared in the door way.  Mild disapproval spread across his face, the look that made Thomas just want to cross across the room and wipe it off with his fist.

How did he know?  Mrs. Pattmore no doubt.  The bloody bastard had come to gloat.  The plaster dust billowed in the door draft, making it look like the butler was walking in a fog.  It was so thick it even made it look as though he was wearing white instead of the black that Carson had worn his entire life...  Wait... he    
_was_ wearing white.

 _ “ Your story’s sad to tell ,” _

“Oh piss off you old goat,” Thomas said, plucking his cigarette out and angrily throwing it at the old man.

 _ “ A footman ne'er do well ,” _

“Wait... are you singing?”  There was no doubting.  Carson had sung the words out in a rich deep baritone.

 _ “Most mixed up troubled soul on the block!   
Your future's so unclear now,   
What's left of your career now?   
Can't even get a trade in on your helmet! ” _

The door behind him swung open.  Behind him in walked O’Brien, Anna, Daisy, Mr Hughes and all the Crawley ladies, dressed entirely in white, their usually ludicrous hair was piled higher than ever on top of their heads, would about bags of flour, candied peel and other non perishable goods.  They moved together in perfect unison, singing in harmony to his former boss’s haunting tones.

 _ “ Medi Corp Dropout   
No pass out parade for you   
Medi Corp Dropout   
Missin’ a finger, got no reference   
Well you could have taken time, to wash and clean your clothes up   
After spending all that dough to have the blackmarket fill your shed up! _

_ Tom boy get moving (Get moving)   
It’s quite clear you were robbed   
What are you proving (What are you provin)?   
You've got a dream but not a job _

_ If back to your old job you’ll be in a steady crew   
Turn in your Medi kit and go back to Downton _

_ Medi Corp Dropout (Medi Corp Dropout)   
Hanging around Mrs Pattmore   
Medi Corp Dropout (Medi Corp Dropout)   
It's about time you knew the score. _

_ Did I never teach you anything?   
At least you’re still a looker   
I guess you could chuck it all in and just become a hooker! _

_ Tom boy don't sweat it (Don't sweat it),   
You're not cut out to hold a job.   
Better forget it (Forget it),   
I always said you were a sod. _

_ Now that your bags are slashed, black markets crashed and still the world is cruel,   
Wipe off that floury face and go back to Downton. _

_ Tom boy don't blow it,   
Don't put my good advice to shame.   
Tom boy you know it,   
Downton Abbey waits again.   
Now that you’ve been shot, I best get off, I really gotta fly!   
Gotta be going to that luncheon in the sky!” _

Carson floated backwards regally, disappearing into the smoke.  The ladies backed out the door, quietly singing the refrain until he was left once again in the shed by himself.  His mouth hung open.  After several long minutes, he found another cigarette.

The door opened again, but this time it was O’Brien that walked in, dressed in her usual black.  She looked at him, face full of concern as she took in the destruction around him.

“What will you do?” she said.

He stared at her for several long seconds.  At last he managed to persuade his mouth to talk.

“I don’t know, I... I just don’t know.”


End file.
